


5 Senses

by ItsAiryBro



Category: Bleach
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Chapters are not in chronological order, Explicit Language, Explicit Sex, Fluff, Humor, Ichigo and Grimmjow are dorks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 15:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15488952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAiryBro/pseuds/ItsAiryBro
Summary: A series of ficlets based on the five senses: Taste, Smell, Sight, Hearing and Touch, featuring Grimmjow and Ichigo. There will be fluff, sap, silliness, and some sexy time. Supposed to be cute.





	1. Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed. I die on the swords of grammar like a man.

Grimmjow stepped out of a garganta and onto Ichigo’s windowsill.

He opened the window carefully— only because Ichigo would bitch at him if he broke the glass __again__ — and entered the room, only to find it empty. He shrugged, figuring the boy was out buying groceries or doing ‘school’ stuff.

He flopped onto the bed and crossed his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling and wondering when Ichigo would be back. After a while though, he got bored, and thought he’d poke around in Ichigo’s cupboard. Who knew, he might even find something juicy to tease Ichigo about, or better yet, Ichigo’s porn stash!

In a decidedly naughty mood, he threw open the cupboard doors and started moving things in his quest to find something scandalous. The top shelves contained books, one drawer was full of socks, and the other had underwear. Even his underwear was normal and boring! Checkered boxers, some briefs, and that was it. He didn’t even have a thong! 

Hmm, he leered. Now there was something he should add to his shopping list.

He searched the whole thing, but found nothing out of the ordinary. All that was left was the bottom shelf, and he squatted on his haunches to root around in it. He only found more clothes though. He was about to withdraw his hand, but his fingers brushed against something hard and unyielding.

Jackpot!

He grinned as he gleefully pulled what appeared to be a photo album from where it was buried in the corner under some shirts.

It wasn’t porn, but he’d make do.

The album was full, and old. It contained pictures of Ichigo as a child, and he was innocent and happy and his face glowed as his mother cuddled him close.

He straightened, holding the book close to his chest as he moved to sit on the bed. He opened the book again, and his gaze imperceptibly softened when he was met with the sight of a tiny baby Ichigo, with only one tooth and a patch of orange fuzz on his head. He was sitting on his mother’s lap, smiling and reaching for the camera.

He turned the pages gently, grinning at the various pictures. Ichigo in a diaper, Ichigo in light green booties, Ichigo with his mouth wide open and snot coming out of his nose as he bawled his heart out.  

He felt like nibbling on something as he looked through the book, and his eyes fell on a bowl of fruit that sat on Ichigo’s desk. Must have been left there by the straw-haired sister.

He picked up the whole bowl and returned to his perch, eager to resume what he was doing. He chose an apple, and finished it during the next few pages with only a few bites.

His fingers landed on something small, round and hard, and he averted his eyes from the album to see what the strange fruit was. It didn’t smell toxic. It smelled a little sweet.

He decided to give it a try, even as his instinct warned him not to eat something he didn’t know about.

He chomped down on the fruit, and felt his eyes squeeze close and his face contort as an unpleasant zing coursed through his entire body.

SOUR!

IT WAS SO BLOODY SOUR!!!

Grimmjow spat the vile thing back out, making gagging noises, feeling his very toes curl at the sheer sourness, struggling to open his eyes because the taste kept him scrunching his face.

Ichigo chose that moment to enter the room, and was met with the sight of Grimmjow gagging and making disgusted noises, his album forgotten on the bed as the arrancar tried in vain to try and wipe the taste off his tongue. Literally.

He saw the fruit bowl and quickly deduced what must have happened, and snickered as he retrieved the book and hid it away again, as he watched the arrancar lick his coat sleeve with a desperation that he’d never seen on his face before.

“What the fucking hell was that?!” the blue-haired man nearly screeched after getting the taste to wear off to his satisfaction, outraged that a mere fruit had managed to get the best of him. His face was still twitching.

“They’re called gooseberries, Grimmjow. They’re good for health. Very rich in vitamin C.” Ichigo smirked, not bothering to hide his smug satisfaction.

Grimmjow let out a disgusted noise, a sort of yell-screech-hiss hybrid if you will, as he ran out of the room. Probably to get some water.

Ichigo laughed. That’s what he got for looking through his things without permission.

********\--** **

Ichigo flipped the arrancar onto his back, pinning him with his lower body as he licked and nibbled on a perfectly sculpted collar bone.

Grimmjow raked his hands through short orange spikes, tugging gently in a bid to get Ichigo to move farther down.

The shinigami moved his own hands to the other’s hips, grip tight enough to bruise as he bent his head and licked a tanned pectoral, using the tip to tease the nipple with teasing flicks before closing his lips around the nub and sucking.

The larger man growled, yanking Ichigo’s hair viciously. “Stop fucking teasing, god damnit!”

“I’m getting there, you dick! I’ll lose all my hair at this rate!”

Grimmjow responded by squeezing the irate shinigami’s bottom, and considered it a success when Ichigo moaned a little and bent back down to trail licks and kisses and bites down his abdomen.

Grimmjow rested his head back on the pillow as Ichigo used one hand to __finally__ grip his length, moving it up and down in short strokes, while using his other hand to grope his hip. He sucked at a spot right on the juncture between his thigh and pelvis, a spot that had the arrancar gritting his teeth as his breaths turn to ragged pants.

Ichigo moved his lips up, across his hipbone, dipping into the ridge of one abdominal muscle, climbing over the valley of another, moving in swirling, distracting patterns near the edge of this hollow hole, before dipping into it and—

“Shit!” the shinigami yelped and jerked back, a shocked look on his face as he fanned his tongue with his hand.

“What the hell?” Grimmjow yelled, before he saw the scandalized look on the boy’s face. Then he burst out laughing, all anger forgotten as he tried to control his mirth to not upset Ichigo further.

“It zapped me! Your fucking hollow hole zapped my tongue!” Ichigo screamed, his tongue still smarting. He hadn’t expected something like that in the least. After all, he had never felt anything when he touched it with his finger tips. The sensation was strange, like licking a battery and biting his tongue combined to form a new kind of pain-not pain, with a slight ferric tang that lingered like an aftertaste.

Grimmjow wheezed as he tried to regain some form composure and failed, nearly doubling over in his laughter.

“Stop laughing!” The shinigami whacked the larger man with the back of his hand, his face going red in embarrassment. “It’s not funny!”

“I’m-I’m sorry!” Grimmjow coughed out, his laughter dying as he saw the acute mortification writ clear across the poor kid’s face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He reached out and pulled him on top of his chest.

Ichigo yielded with minimal fuss, though his face was still red and he refused to meet his eyes. When Grimmjow held his chin and pressed gently, he obliged and held his tongue out for inspection.

Grimmjow looked intently at the pink, wet muscle. “It doesn’t look any different. Does it still hurt?”

Ichigo shook his head no, and Grimmjow let go of his chin.

“Your hollow hole sucks.”


	2. Sound

Ichigo was enjoying himself as he effortlessly dodged strike after strike, face displaying a sort of glee that wasn’t often seen.

“What’s the matter, Grimmjow? Tired already?”

The arrancar laughed before he answered Ichigo with a smirk and a cero— which Ichigo artfully dodged, of course. “Nah, shinigami. Just wondering what to do to your ass when I get you in bed tonight!”

Ichigo dodged yet another cero even as he fired off his own getsuga, ducking and sidestepping with ease as he matched Grimmjow’s offense blow for blow. They were caught in a dance, a dance that was thrilling and primal and practically an art form between the two by now.

“Ha! You’ll actually have to catch me for that to happen.”

 ****Grimmjow grinned, manic and bloodthirsty. “Challenge accepted, shinigami.”

Ichigo turned and was off in an instant, heading to the outer city, where there were plenty of abandoned buildings and not many people to wonder why the air was pulsing and vibrating with energy and power.

He found a nice rooftop, and he landed on it before turning to face his pursuer, Zangetsu raised in an attacking stance. Grimmjow flashed onto the crumbling railing, Pantera resting on his shoulder as he grinned down at the boy from his higher perch. Ichigo grinned back, and they flew at each other in unison, swords clanging and curses spewing from their lips.

Suddenly, Ichigo winced and went down on one knee, clutching his stomach. Grimmjow immediately sheathed his sword, and bent to examine if he’d hurt the shinigami, but he didn’t get too far as Ichigo surged upwards and captured his lips in a fiery kiss, Zangetsu forgotten as he clutched the arrancar’s hair with both his hands.

Grimmjow grunted in surprise but quickly gained control of the situation, grabbing the orange haired boy by his shoulders and slamming him onto the roof and straddling his stomach. He looked mildly pissed, but he was finding it difficult to keep up his glare in the face of Ichigo’s impish smile.

He intensified his glare a little before he smirked evilly, relishing how the boy’s expression faltered when he did so, and he moved in for the kill, ripping apart the black shihakusho and exposing lush skin.

Ichigo was alarmed; this was not how it was supposed to happen! “No, Grimm- wait-”

His words died an abrupt death as Grimmjow started tickling him, right on the most sensitive strips of skin on his sides, from just below his arm pits to a few inches above his hip bone, which made him squirm and writhe as he lost the battle to the oncoming gale of laughter.

“Fuck- Grimmjow, stop it!I can’t- can’t breathe!” He wheezed before his laughter overtook him again, belly laughs that were rich and warm and joyous, perfect and precious because they were so rare they were almost extinct.

“Try to fool me again, will you?” Grimmjow smirked, unmindful of the scratches he was receiving through Ichigo’s fumbling attempts to pry his hands away, relishing the vocal expression of Ichigo’s mirth, the sheer __sweetness__  of the sound making a slow, low warmth bloom a little off-kilter in his chest.

Ichigo started coughing from being unable to get enough air into his lungs, and the espada finally released him.

He lay curled on his side as some residual laughter still escaped him, panting deeply, tears running down his face from laughing too much. He turned to look at the arrancar, and his countenance was shining and young, if not just a little angry. “What the fuck was that for?”

Grimmjow shrugged. “You needed it.”

Ichigo gave him a quizzical frown, and Grimmjow sighed. “You’re almost still a kid, yeah?” He murmured, moving to wipe the wetness on his cheeks away with his big, calloused hands. “Young people are supposed to laugh and have fun, and yet you never do. You’re always walking around with that sour ass scowl on your face, like you hate the world. I’m the espada of destruction, I work under Aizen, I share living space with Nnoitra and that annoying prick Ulquiorra’s always breathing down my neck, and __I__  laugh more than you do. Now if that isn’t fucked up, I don’t know what is.”

Ichigo looked at Grimmjow for a moment, a little surprised, a little contemplative. Then, he just looked a little... Well. There was no exact word for the expression on his face. His lips were slightly quirked upwards, and his eyes glinted with something soft and fond.

Grimmjow swallowed at the intensity of the look directed at him.

The orange haired boy pushed himself up, and promptly plopped into the arrancar’s lap, arms thrown around a sturdy neck. He nuzzled the blue hair at his temples and moved toward the soft ear lobe, nibbling on it before he murmured, “I’m not a kid.”

Then he bit down sharply on the soft flesh.

Grimmjow, having been lulled into a sense of complacency at the gentle treatment, yelped at the sudden pain radiating from his ear, barely registering the fact that Ichigo had already jumped away from him.

When he did realise it, he snarled and pounced on the grinning shinigami, picking up again on their game from before. Ichigo shrieked and leaped away, barely avoiding getting plowed into, and started running for his life.

His jubilant laughter echoed in the air, and Grimmjow __knew__  that he’d give anything to keep that darling sound from ever fading away.

****\--** **

Grimmjow opened a garganta— right inside Ichigo’s room this time— and stepped onto the bed. He settled down on the side nearest the wall, and kicked off his footwear and socks before snuggling into the bed and passing out.

When Ichigo entered the room after his shower, he was surprised to see the Sexta fast asleep on his bed. The first thought to occur to him was: Thank god he didn’t break the window.

The second was: He looks adorable!

The third was: WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING ON MY BED?

Ichigo wasn’t surprised at seeing Grimmjow. Because, he’d started seeing him a lot more often these days after all, since that day when they’d done... __that__. No, it wasn’t seeing Grimmjow, but rather, seeing him __sleeping in his bed.__

They’d done __it,__  that one day. Ichigo still blushed at the memory. And after that, they’d done __it__  again, and again, on rooftops, in back yards, in alleyways, and even a swimming pool on one particularly hot night. But this was the first time Grimmjow was on his bed. Like, actually __on__  his bed, in his bedroom, in his house. Ichigo blushed again, and shook his head, like that would make the blush go away.

He didn’t know what to make of it, that the man had suddenly showed up in his room. They hadn’t actually discussed anything about it. He didn’t know if Grimmjow was just using him for... for __it,__ or if there were feelings and the like involved on his part. Because there sure as hell were feelings from Ichigo’s part. What exactly those feelings were, he did not know, but that did not particularly matter to him.

He put away his dirty clothes in the laundry hamper before he finally decided to get into bed as well. If Grimmjow wasn’t driving himself mad by thinking in circles, why should he?

He made his movements as quiet and gentle as possible, in an effort to not disturb the arrancar. The minute his head settled on the pillow, though, Grimmjow was all over him, nuzzling into his neck, pulling him into his chest, trapping him there by throwing a muscled leg over both of his.

Ichigo flitted between shock and disbelief before he finally settled on irritation. He was being used like a full body pillow, and the damn arrancar was heavy! And since when was he so into cuddling?

He wriggled in an attempt to escape the iron grip the man had on him even in his sleep, but Grimmjow only tightened his grip and dug his chin into his shoulder, trying to get his pillow to stay still.

Ichigo huffed and gave up, seeing no other choice but to fall asleep as he was. At least the man was warm.

He was floating somewhere in between sleep and wakefulness when he registered a vibration against his chest and shoulder, where Grimmjow’s neck and chest were pressed into him. A short while later, the vibrations grew stronger, and what could only be identified as __purring__  reached Ichigo’s ears.

Ichigo snapped his eyes open as he bent his neck slightly to look at the face snuggled into his shoulder, nudging the man a little, and __yes__ , the soft purring seemed to be originating from Grimmjow’s chest, spilling from his slightly opened mouth.

Ichigo fought the urge to giggle.

Grimmjow was __purring in his sleep.__

He really was a cat!

The shinigami chuckled silently to himself even as he rearranged Grimmjow to stick to his chest.

They were going to sleep together more often.


	3. Smell

Grimmjow and Ichigo were sitting in the latter’s room, for once doing something other than fighting, fucking or sleeping.

They were playing God of War on the shinigami’s computer.

Or rather, Ichigo was playing and Grimmjow, when he was not making snide, taunting, and altogether unhelpful comments about Ichigo’s prowess, was cussing at the on-screen world.

“That bitch Luppi could punch harder than that!”

“Die Motherfucker! DIE!”

“Stab that fucking sonuva BITCH in the FACE!”

"Kurosaki, you suck at this. You should let me play."

“HA! What a pathetic piece of shit!”

“No- NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING. WHAT ARE- KILL HIM! KILL HIIIIIIM!!!!”

He was sure Ichigo was developing a ringing in his left ear. Good!

“Kurosaki, let me play.” He tried again.

Ichigo’s reply remained unchanged, though. “No,” he snapped.

This had been going on for quite some time. He only wanted to play the game for a while, mostly because it was intriguing and he’d never seen anything like it before. But Ichigo kept refusing him. Was he afraid Grimmjow would break the keyboard? (That was what it was called right? The black rectangular thing making the clacking noises? He wasn’t very sure. The only place he’d seen something like it was in Szayel’s lab, and he was too busy trying to escape unmolested to find out what the different instruments were called.)

He was about to bitch a little more but he chose instead to scream right in Ichigo’s ear to RIP THAT MOTHERFUCKER’S ASS APART.

He grinned when Ichigo growled at him to stop screaming in his ears.

He was getting closer to his goal.

After a while, Ichigo got hungry. He did something to the computer and a blue screen appeared before fading to black. “Don’t touch the computer,” he said, and gave Grimmjow a warning glare before leaving the room.

Now, that was the mistake he’d made.

If you told Grimmjow not to do something, he would most definitely strive to do just that. Especially if it came with the added advantage of irritating his favourite shinigami.

As soon as Ichigo was out of sight, he immediately occupied the seat the boy had vacated, and bent to press the button that powered on the computer.

He waited for the colourful screen to appear, and when it did, he immediately started searching for Ichigo’s games folder.

He moved the mouse to a random little button on the screen and clicked on it.

No God of War.

He kept pressing random buttons, but still no God of War.

He clicked something, and a smaller box popped up saying... something about recycling? He clicked the button.

A flying paper appeared in the box, and it started flying toward what appeared to be a dustbin.

Was that supposed to be a good thing?

The door opened and Ichigo entered, his eyes widening comically at what he was seeing on the screen: 

His entire documents folder was being deleted!

“WHAT THE FUCKING HELL GRIMMJOW! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH THE COMPUTER!”

Grimmjow wisely stepped away from the computer and the ballistic orange haired boy.

Ichigo scrambled to stop the process, and see if the data could be recovered.

Grimmjow remained silent, realising that he had inadvertently seriously screwed up. At least Ichigo hadn’t started screaming at him yet.

He was about to say something apologetic, but a strange, __strange__  odour assaulted his nose. He hadn’t ever come across something like that before. It smelled spicy, but also... Charred? Whatever it was, it smelled terrible.

“Ichigo, do you smell that?”

“What?!” Ichigo snapped at him, a vein practically bursting near his temple.

"That horri-” Grimmjow pulled a face and pinched his nostrils together, trying to keep the offending smell out of his nose. “Fucking hell, what is that smell? It fucking stinks!”

Ichigo froze and his nostrils widened a little, before he bolted out of the room and thundered downstairs. He didn’t seem to be all that affected by the smell, though.

Grimmjow opened the windows and stuck his head outside, taking deep breaths and flushing the disgusting scent from his lungs.

He sure as hell hoped it didn’t stick to his clothes.

****\--** **

Ichigo was in the shower, lathering up his hair with a blessedly neutral smelling shampoo.

Yuzu had finally remembered that he was a guy and guys did not enjoy smelling like a flower bouquet had barfed on them.

He sighed in relief as the hot water massaged his sore muscles, the feeling pleasant and blissful. It had been so long since he had taken the time to just relax in the shower, and he was enjoying himself thoroughly.

Until.

The shower door opened with a resounding crack and a very naked arrancar entered the room, a huge grin practically splitting his face in two.

Ichigo smirked right back and stepped aside to make space for the man under the shower, thinking back to the time when he used to scream and fumble to cover himself with the towel. It seemed so far away now.

When had he become so shameless?

“Missed me, shinigami?” Grimmjow rumbled, his voice deep and seductive and oh so enticing, tempting Ichigo to come and partake in dark pleasures.

Not that Ichigo needed to be tempted.

“How many times have I told you,” Ichigo purred back, moving closer and crowding the taller man against the wall, “to stop calling me ‘shinigami’ unless you want me to call you ‘espada’ when we’re fucking?”

Grimmjow smirked. “But why would I mind that, when it is the truth?”

Ichigo frowned, feeling a little deflated. “But it’s so impersonal.”

Grimmjow didn't say anything, just turned them so it was Ichigo who was pressed against the wall, and began nuzzling the teen’s temple.

Ichigo resisted.

It was always like this, it seemed. Grimmjow would say something, he would feel upset, Grimmjow would try to fuck him happy, or at least into forgetting why he was upset.

He didn’t want to be fucked happy. Not this time. Pushing away problems never solved them.

“Grimmjow, stop.” He pressed a soap-slicked palm against a warm pectoral. When Grimmjow didn’t let up, he pressed harder. “Let me go. __Grimmjow__.”

The arrancar cupped his face with both his hands, gently raising his face to look deep into his eyes. Ichigo slid his gaze away, not willing to meet the electric sapphire eyes of his friend/lover/fuck buddy/rival.

He felt helpless when Grimmjow looked at him like that, felt all his words disappear, felt his anger and doubt vanish even when he didn’t want them to. Why did this arrancar have so much power over him?!

It had been so long since he’d started sleeping with the arrancar, and yet he didn’t know what he was to the other man. Was he a mere toy that Grimmjow amused himself with? Did he even think about it?

Once, he had pushed away such confusing thoughts, thinking that he wasn’t going to break his head over them when the other man clearly wasn’t worried. But now, it felt like he couldn’t continue this... this thing anymore without knowing what the hell they were playing at.

“Ichigo.”

Ichigo kept his eyes averted, sure that if he gave in, something would break.

“Ichigo, look at me.” Grimmjow traced his lower lip with his rough thumb, and it was so gentle, so tender.

Despite trying really hard, Ichigo's eyes welled with tears. Sheer force of will kept them from spilling over.

"Damn, Ichi..." Grimmjow pulled the trembling boy into his chest, pressing him there, holding him close to his non-existent heart as Ichigo scrambled to clutch at his shoulders. He tucked the wet orange head under his chin, pressing them up against the wall when the boy decided to wrap both his legs around his waist as well, clinging to him like a baby monkey.

Once he got a good grip on the boy’s thighs, he slowly lowered them to sit on the floor, Ichigo settled comfortably in his lap.

Ichigo shuddered when he felt strong, muscled arms wrap around him. A big, warm hand moved up to cradle his head while its partner moved to press against the small of his back, pressing their torsos close together.

“Ichigo,” The larger man breathed, voice a little pained. “What's wrong?”

Ichigo shook his head, his face buried in the crook of Grimmjow’s neck. Grimmjow’s natural musk was calming, and Ichigo dug his nose into the thickly corded neck to breathe in more of it.

It felt comfortable. It felt familiar. It felt warm. Pleasant. Soothing. Safe.

He wanted to breathe in it forever.

"Ichigo. You know I’m no good at this talking stuff, and even worse at this feeling stuff, right?"

Ichigo nodded, nose still buried in Grimmjow's wet neck, giving him permission to continue.

"And I'm sorry, okay? For what I said before. You're right, 'shinigami' is impersonal, and I only do it to annoy you anyway. I'll stop, if you want me to. I like to piss you off, but I don't want to honestly upset you, you know."

Ichigo nodded again, and his arms and legs tightened around the taller man.  

Grimmjow squeezed him back, nuzzled his temple, and placed a small kiss on the back of his neck.

Ichigo smiled.


	4. Touch

Ichigo was sleeping when Grimmjow popped into his room at around midnight.

Hmm, he mused. Wasn’t it too early for the boy to be sleeping? He was usually up till late at night either fighting hollows or finishing up his ‘homework’, so he was just a little surprised to see the boy already under the blankets.

Oh well.

He kicked off his shoes and socks and got onto the bed, occupying the spot between the sleeping boy and the wall. He preferred it that way, for the simple reason that it meant not leaving his back unguarded.

Ichigo automatically migrated toward the warmth his body exuded, and he opened his arms to let him snuggle into his chest.

That was when he noticed the bandages that covered the boy’s torso.

Grimmjow clenched his teeth in disgust.

Ichigo, for all his power and bravery and selflessness, was still only sixteen, not an adult even by human world standards. Compared to the shinigami and hollows whose lifespans extended to centuries, he was but a baby. That the shinigami bastards would drag an innocent into their own twisted agenda was loathsome to him.

He chose to conveniently ignore the fact that it was Ichigo and his bleeding heart that got him into their mess in the first place.

Grimmjow snorted, and Ichigo scrunched his nose at the disturbance.

He gripped Ichigo’s shoulder and tried to turn him so they could curl together more comfortably, but Ichigo didn’t budge.

He huffed and shook him awake, and Ichigo opened his chocolate brown eyes to glare at him blearily. “What?!” he snapped, though it wasn’t all that intimidating.

“Turn around,” Grimmjow commanded, deadpan.

Ichigo grumbled and cursed, but he did as he was asked anyway, making rude comments about goddamned pushy espada.

Grimmjow didn’t mind though, and spooned against Ichigo, pulling him into his chest and tucking one arm under their heads.

He buried his nose in the side of Ichigo’s throat, feeling the pulse that softly throbbed there. He placed his palm against his bandaged chest, right above his heart, and felt a matching pulse, beating strong and healthy.

He pressed his nose into the pulse point, then his lips, and Ichigo squirmed at the ticklish sensation.

Grimmjow chuckled, placed one last kiss on his neck, and moved to tuck the teenager’s head under his chin. He reassured himself with the steady thud-thud-thud of Ichigo’s heart under his palm, and allowed himself to fall asleep.

****\--** **

****Ichigo woke up in the morning because he was being crushed by Grimmjow’s weight.

Sometime during the night, they had straightened out from their usual ball. When Ichigo had turned to lie on his stomach, Grimmjow (who for some reason __always__  stuck to him like a barnacle when they slept) turned too, and had ended up draped all over him.

Usually, Ichigo could take the weight, but today his chest was killing him.

“Grimmjow,” he rasped out, and tried to push himself up, but gave up when his chest throbbed in pain.

He huffed out a breath, and this time, tried to push Grimmjow off him. “Grimmjow, gedofff!”

When that yielded no response, he set to physically moving the arrancar’s arm. After a good bit of huffing and puffing and grumbling, he finally managed to turn around within the man’s arms. At least this way he was able to breathe.

Grimmjow immediately snuggled into his chest, making little purring noises as he did. Ichigo felt the urge to pet his hair, and so he acted on it.

The blue strands were satin-soft, and his fingers didn’t get caught on a single tangle. Ichigo marveled at it’s texture. Was it normal for arrancars to have such soft hair? Was he using some sort of special serum, and if so, could he have some of it too?

His inane musings were cut short when Grimmjow rubbed his face against his bandaged chest, in the space between two pectorals.

For a blood thirsty, battle hardened, cold hearted bastard, Grimmjow was fucking adorable when he slept. Shit, he even purred!

At that thought, he moved his hands lower, gently scratching behind the man’s ears. The short hairs near Grimmjow’s neck and ears were kitten soft. Better than eiderdown, even.

Grimmjow purred louder. Ichigo smiled.

He continued running his fingers through the luscious blue locks, enjoying the feel, relishing the gentle moment between them.

He was going to be late for school, but see if he cared.

 


	5. Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the part where the explicit sex warning comes into play.

Grimmjow doesn’t know how he ended up in this situation, but he sure as hell isn’t regretting it.

How could he, when he had a willing and utterly sexy Ichigo on his cock, panting and moaning and... and...

Shit.

This is wrong. He knows this. Ichigo is the enemy. He’s supposed to hate the brat and his stupid eyes, supposed to hate that Ichigo looks at him like he’s better than him. The logical part of his mind is screaming obscenities at him, telling him Aizen will have his head when he finds out.

But right now, when Ichigo is warm and pliant and gasping in his arms, looking at him with lust darkened eyes, he can’t bring himself to care.

Fuck you, consequence.

Ichigo keens at a particularly hard thrust, his fingers digging into Grimmjow’s broad, muscular shoulders. He’s pressed up against a wall, bent in half, the backs of his knees resting in the crooks of Grimmjow’s elbows. The blue haired arrancar’s hands are braced on the wall, on either side of the boy’s chest.

“Uh- Grimm-ah-Grimm-jow...” Ichigo stutters out, his arms tightening around Grimmjow’s neck and shoulders. “Ha- Harder!”

Grimmjow obliges, increasing his pace and rubbing the shinigami’s sweet spot with each thrust, till Ichigo’s voice is nothing but one long, hoarse moan.

Ichigo pulls him closer, cranes upward for a kiss that’s hot and needy and desperate and just a little savage, and Grimmjow indulges him, lets him have whatever he wants, because he can’t even think of doing anything else.

The arrancar pulls away after a while though, and Ichigo nearly whines at the loss, face upturned, letting Grimmjow see what he’s doing to him.

Grimmjow’s breath catches in his throat. He’s fucked a lot of people, but never has he seen anyone as expressive and __beautiful__  during sex as Ichigo. His cheeks are flushed, his lips are parted and reddened, swollen, wet, glistening with their combined saliva, and there’s a smudge of blood on the corner of his mouth from their vicious kissing.

But his eyes. God, his eyes.

His eyes are half lidded and dark, not just brown, but a deep, rich colour, like freshly turned earth, like decadent chocolate pools. They’re glazed over, staring straight into his eyes, and there are __so many things__  he sees in there, lust, pleasure, a little awe and the barest hint of disbelief, and so much blind trust, and if __that__  isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever seen, well, damn.

He feels his climax coming, and he bends and mouths the boy’s slender neck, sucking, leaving marks because this is __his__  now, and there’s no way he’s sharing this amazing creature with anyone else. He always was a possessive bastard.

Ichigo crests first, and Grimmjow watches it play out on his face, the way his eyebrows draw together, the way his eyes widen and then squeeze close, and the way his entire body freezes as a howled rendition of his name tears out of his throat, spills from his perfect lips. “Grimmjow!”

 ****Grimmjow climaxes from the visual alone, and buries himself deep inside Ichigo’s tight, pulsing heat, grunting through clenched teeth. They remain like that, neither moving, simply catching their breaths as they come to grips with what they’d just done.

“So, um...” Ichigo starts, and his voice is raw after all the screaming he did.

Grimmjow smirks. “Yes?”

“That was amazing.” Ichigo breathes, and he sounds just a little starstruck. Grimmjow’s pride swells. “We should do that again.”

The arrancar chuckles lightly. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Kurosaki.”

****\--** **

Ichigo had been about to to enter the bathroom, when the door opened and a ninety nine percent naked Grimmjow stepped out.

The remaining one percent of him was covered by a __thong.__

__An honest to goodness, obnoxiously bright, orange thong._ _

Ichigo’s brain popped and fizzled, and melted into one big pile of mush.

That was... Grimmjow was... __Unf.__

All bulging muscles, sculpted shoulders, washboard abs, toned legs, tan skin... Sweet Kami, what was this static fuzz in his head?

Grimmjow grinned and slicked his wet hair back, stepping forward to grasp Ichigo’s hand and draw him under the shower.

Ichigo was still gaping at the thong, and Grimmjow gently pushed the boy to his knees, never one to let an opportunity go to waste.

Ichigo was absolutely spell bound. His raised his hands to cup the half-hard bulge through the flimsy material, before moving to lick a stripe on the soft cloth. He felt Grimmjow weave his hands though his hair and tug lightly, encouraging him to do more. Ichigo shuddered, and moved closer, sucking the length through the cloth before pulling the constricting material away. Grimmjow’s shaft stood completely erect now, and Ichigo took only the tip into his mouth, licking and massaging with his tongue. His hands moved of their own volition to grasp at the thong, rubbing the silken material with trembling fingers.

Grimmjow rumbled deep in his chest, Ichigo’s cue to move further. He sucked the arrancar’s entire length into his mouth, deep throating with ease after months of practice. Grimmjow growled in warning, and Ichigo relaxed his throat and looked up at Grimmjow through his bangs.

“Goddamn, Ichigo...” Grimmjow purred, tightening his grip on the boy’s hair as he began thrusting into his mouth.

Ichigo closed his eyes, clenching his fingers into the fabric as Grimmjow fucked his mouth gently. He moaned his pleasure and felt Grimmjow shudder above him before he came, spilling his essence down his throat.

Ichigo swallowed, still in a daze, and pulled away, licking his lips. He was pulled up into Grimmjow’s arms and promptly kissed to within an inch of his life. “Your turn, Ichigo.”

Ichigo smiled dazedly. “Yes, please.”

********\--** **

****Bonus:** **

Kon clambered through Ichigo’s window, grumbling the whole time about things that were too inconsequential to repeat. When he finally got into the room, though, he was met with a sight that he would remember in his nightmares.

Ichigo was in bed with that blue haired arrancar that had nearly disemboweled Rukia, and THEY WERE NAKED.

ICHIGO WAS NAKED AND DOING THE NASTY WITH THE ENEMY.

“GYAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! MY EYES! MY POOR EYES! ICHIGO YOU TRAITOR!”

Ichigo quite literally threw Grimmjow off the bed in his surprise, and he went very pale and then very red when realisation hit him. “K- Kon! Wait-”

But Kon had scrambled out of the window faster than he could blink, and was currently running away screaming bloody murder.

“Oi Ichigo! What’s the big deal?” Grimmjow grumbled from his spot on the floor, rubbing his sore ass.

“Kon saw us! Now he’s going to blab to Urahara and we’re gonna be found out!” Ichigo shrieked, frantically searching for pants so he could go out and intercept Kon before any damage was done.

Grimmjow just gave him a look, before going to the window.

Ichigo paused in the middle of shoving one of his legs into a pair of trousers, turned, and- “What the- What are- YOU CAN’T CERO MY NEIGHBOURHOOD YOU IDIOT! Wait- oi, where are you- PANTS, GRIMMJOW! PUT ON YOUR FREAKING PANTS!! PANTSsss Oh my god, I am so __dead__...”


End file.
